


True Love's Kiss

by Spikedluv



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Puppies, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh, you know,” Lydia said.  “The usual.  A witch, a spell, and voila!  Puppies.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Love's Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Written for trope_bingo using the trope: a kiss to save the day. (It’s too late for bingo, but it’s still amnesty!)
> 
> Okay, so, this story started out one place and ended up in another. I wanted to write some Peter/Chris fic, and so I checked my trope_bingo table for inspiration, and what do you know, inspiration hit in the form of two tropes. I chose this one because I thought the story would lighter than the other would be. There’s humor and adorableness. But there’s a lot less Peter/Chris than I’d originally anticipated. I wanted to ease into the pairing, so I made Derek my POV character and tried to slide into the Peter/Chris pairing kind of sideways. So, it turned out to be more of a Derek/Stiles fic with a side of Peter/Chris. On the plus side, it sets up my backstory for Peter/Chris for the sequel I’d like to write, possibly for teenwolf_bb.
> 
> Written: June 27, 2013

Derek hated witches. More and more everyday. He rubbed his eyes as the three puppies yipped excitedly and gamboled around the large empty space in his loft. The entire situation was giving him a headache.

“Be. Quiet,” Derek growled.

The puppies all fell silent and stared at Derek. Stiles was, of course, the first to break the silence. He barked and jumped up onto Derek’s legs, making it clear that he wanted to be picked up.

“Oh for god’s sake, pick him up before I kill myself,” Peter grumbled.

“You’re assuming I think that would be a bad thing,” Derek said, but he bent down and lifted Stiles into his arms. The tiny German Shepherd squirmed around until he got his front paws on Derek’s chest. And then he proceeded to lick Derek’s face.

Derek covered Stiles’ muzzle with his hand to dissuade Stiles from licking him. Stiles thought it was an awesome game and he nipped and licked at Derek’s fingers instead. Derek watched Scott dance about Allison’s feet while Isaac pounced on Scott, and wondered how this had become his life.

According to Allison, the four of them had headed out into the Preserve to do some training. Derek couldn’t even bring himself to act surprised that they’d run into trouble even when they weren’t looking for it. They’d encountered a woman who, according to Scott (human Scott, relayed via Allison, not puppy Scott), had smelled funny.

“Funny how?” Stiles had asked.

Scott and Isaac argued over just what she’d smelled like.

“What does it mean?” Allison said.

Neither Scott nor Isaac seemed to know.

“Well, is she human?” Stiles pressed.

“I don’t think so,” Scott said.

“We should tell Derek,” Isaac said.

“Derek Hale?” the woman said, reappearing suddenly and startling them all. She sniffed them. “He’s the Alpha now?”

“Yes,” Isaac said, drawing himself up. “And he won’t be happy when he finds out you’re in Beacon Hills.”

The woman ignored Isaac’s warning. “What happened to the rest of the Hale pack?”

“They’re all dead,” Stiles said. “Unless you count Peter. Which we would rather not do.”

“Peter Hale,” the woman said with a creepy smile. “And you.” She turned her intense stare onto Allison. “You smell like a hunter.” She sniffed again. “An Argent, if I’m not mistaken.” She tilted her head and studied the four of them. “An Argent hunter running around with a Hale wolf, oh, how the circle turns.”

“I’m not a Hale,” Scott said, annoyed.

“You smell like Hale,” the woman said. “Yes,” she said suddenly. “You should definitely run back and report to your Alpha.”

“And that’s when she turned them all into puppies,” Allison had explained while the puppies explored the loft.

“So what do we do now?” Allison asked, most of her attention on Scott, a brown Labrador with feet almost bigger than his head.

“I say we leave them like that,” Peter said. “As annoying as they are right now, they’re probably less trouble than their human counterparts, and more useful in this form.”

Allison and Derek took a moment to consider that. The puppies were pretty cute, even if Stiles was persistent in his desire to lick whatever part of Derek he could reach. Still, it wasn’t really an option.

“We’re not leaving them like this,” Derek said.

“Then I guess you’re going to be doing some research,” Peter said.

Derek and Allison both looked at Peter.

“What?” he said. “You want to trust the same witch who turned these three morons into puppies on how to reverse it?”

“Peter’s right,” Derek said reluctantly.

Peter gave Derek a look that said he knew how much it had cost him to admit that. Derek ignored him.

“Well, then, I’ll just be on my way,” Peter said. “Let me know if you find anything.”

“Sit,” Derek growled. “And grab a book. You two can start researching while I try and tire out these three.”

“Lydia’s on her way,” Allison said after checking her phone.

“Good,” Derek said. He set Stiles down on the floor and then leapt up the stairs to his bedroom. When he came back down Stiles stood with his front paws on the bottom step, barking up at Derek, only stopping when Derek reappeared. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his tail started wagging so hard Derek thought Stiles might throw himself over.

“What are you going to do, take your pups for a run?” Peter said with a smirk.

“No,” Derek said, holding up the tennis ball he’d retrieved from his duffel bag, resisting the urge to throw it at Peter’s head. At least he was sitting at the table with a book in his hand, even if he lounged with his feet up on it as if nothing was wrong.

Derek bounced the ball on the floor and it got the puppies’ attention, even Scoot, who’d been enjoying an ear rub from Allison. Derek threw the ball and all three puppies went running after it. The ball bounced off the wall and returned to Derek. The puppies put on the brakes, skidding into each other like a three puppy pile-up. Allison giggled; Peter raised his eyebrows and gave Derek a ‘what else would you expect from those three’ look.

The puppies regained their footing and raced back towards Derek, who teased them with the ball before throwing it again. They played the game for so long that Derek knew his arm would feel like it was falling off if he was human, and still he wondered if the puppies would ever run out of energy.

Lydia arrived and the puppies had to check out this new person and accept her cooing over them (even as she warned them to not even think about slobbering on her shoes) as their due. She looked at them critically and asked, “Have they had anything to drink?”

Lydia gave Derek a look that said she found him seriously lacking as an Alpha when he admitted they hadn’t, but Derek was used to it so he ignored her. She rummaged around in Derek’s cupboards and came up with a large aluminum mixing bowl that she filled with water. All three puppies tried to stick their muzzles into the bowl at the same time and more water ended up on the floor than in their bellies.

When they’d drank their fill, Derek cleaned up the water while fending off Stiles’ tongue. Lydia had taken a seat at the table as far away from Peter as she could get and was pulling out her laptop while Allison gave her the details on what had happened out in the woods. Derek threw the ball once more and the puppies went after it with renewed vigor.

Not long after, Scott collapsed like a puppet whose string had been cut. Isaac’s grey and white Husky followed him down, sprawling beside and half on top of Scott. Stiles was dragging, but stubbornly refused to go down. Derek rolled the tennis ball across the floor and Stiles pounced on it. Derek left Stiles gnawing on the tennis ball and joined the others at the table. He pulled a book over and started reading.

Moments later, Stiles staggered over and leaned against Derek’s leg. Without taking his eyes off the page he was reading, Derek reached down with one hand and scooped Stiles up and set him on his lap. Stiles turned in a circle three times on the limited space on Derek’s lap, one large puppy paw landing on Derek’s junk at one point, causing him to bite back a grunt of pain, and then dropped down and immediately fell asleep. Peter gave Derek a look, which he ignored. He was getting good at that.

~*~*~*~

A couple hours later they were no closer to determining how to reverse the spell without using the riddle the witch had provided. The problem wasn’t that they found too little, but rather, too much. Turned out there were half a dozen transmogrification spells in just the few books they had on hand, and they had no idea which one she might have used, if it was even any of those they’d found.

“Can’t we just try one?” Allison said in frustration when she closed the last of the books.

“No,” Lydia said without taking her eyes off the computer screen. She didn’t have to say it would be too dangerous.

Allison sighed. “I know, I just . . . .”

Lydia did look at Allison then. “We’ll get him back, all of them,” she added with a look at Derek. “We just have to be careful. We don’t want to make it worse.”

Derek glanced over at Peter, who hadn’t said anything. While Peter only helped them because he had to, and not out of the goodness of his heart, he usually had a lot to say. Most of it sarcastic. When Peter felt Derek’s eyes on him, he gave Derek a look that dared him to say anything.

Finally Lydia closed the laptop and pushed it back on the table. “I think it’s time to at least consider what the witch said. What were her exact words?” she asked Allison.

Allison read them back to Lydia off her cell, where she’d typed them into an e-mail so she didn’t forget them and doom Scott to life as a puppy.

_Young love_  
enemy sworn  
hearts broken  
fire borne 

_past returns_  
reunited in strife  
danger passes  
with the breath of life 

“So what does it mean?” Derek said.

“It’s a riddle,” Lydia said. “That’s what we need to figure out.” She didn’t add ‘duh’, but it was heavily implied. “‘Young love’,” Lydia read off the notepad upon which she’d written out the riddle.

“That could be me and Scott?” Allison said tentatively, looking to Derek for confirmation. “She seemed pretty interested in the fact that I, well, that my family were hunters, and that Scott was a werewolf. And that would fit with ‘enemy sworn’, because we’re supposed to be enemies, and ‘hearts broken’, but I don’t know where ‘fire borne’ fits into that. I mean.” She gave Derek an apologetic look. “I know how fire fits with Derek and Peter, but not with me and Scott.”

“And the rest appears to indicate that the past is returning, most likely to haunt someone,” Lydia said. “The lovers slash enemies are reunited and danger is averted with the breath of life, whatever that is.”

“CPR?” Allison said with a confused frown.

“A kiss,” Peter said. Despite the opportunity presented, his tone didn’t even scream ‘you idiot’, like it normally would. He just sounded resigned.

Peter had been pretty subdued since Allison showed up with three puppies and announced that they’d run into a witch. Derek didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but there was something unsettling about it.

“A kiss,” Allison repeated. Her eyes darted to Scott, still asleep in his puppy pile with Isaac.

“It’s not Scott,” Lydia said decisively.

“How do you know?” Allison said.

“Because that would be gross.”

“But that means . . . .”

Both Lydia and Allison looked at Derek.

“It’s not us, either,” Derek said.

“How can you be sure?” Allison asked.

“We may be enemies . . . .”

“Were enemies,” Lydia corrected.

Derek didn’t acknowledge the correction. “And we certainly have a history.” Allison had blamed – perhaps still did – Derek for her mother’s death and had tried to kill him. “But we were never lovers.”

“No,” Allison agreed, “but maybe I’m just a stand in for . . . .”

“For Kate,” Derek said grimly. There was still a small pang of guilt for his role in the death of his family when he spoke her name.

“Yes,” Allison said firmly. “I mean, no offense, but you’re the last person I’d want to kiss. Well, second to last,” she added without even looking at Peter.

“None taken,” Derek said dryly.

“But the witch did say something about Argents and Hales and coming full circle, so what else could it be?”

“Me and Peter,” Lydia said, hiding the pounding of her heart behind a matter-of-fact tone. “There’s me and Peter.”

Even Peter’s head came up at that, and Derek had thought he’d been too lost in his own thoughts to hear anything they were saying.

“It’s not us,” Peter said.

Lydia’s chin went up. As much as she clearly didn’t want it to be her and Peter, she wasn’t going to just take his word for it. “How can you be sure?”

“Because we weren’t lovers, either,” Peter said. Again, the mocking tone Derek would’ve expected was missing.

“No, but you were . . . inside me,” Lydia bit out.

“That wasn’t sex, and it had nothing to do with love,” Peter said, some of the snark back in his voice.

“Oh, I’m fully aware of that,” Lydia snapped.

“I’m not going to apologize,” Peter said, leaning back in his chair and giving Lydia a smarmy smile.

“I wouldn’t believe you if you did,” Lydia said.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Derek said before Peter could respond.

Lydia turned her irritation on Derek, but before she could speak, Allison touched her arm. Lydia took a deep breath and looked away from them. When she turned back, her mask was once more in place.

“You’re right, of course,” Lydia said. “So.” She straightened out paper that didn’t need straightening. “If it’s not Allison and Scott, or Allison and Derek, or . . . anyone else in this room, then who is it?”

“Call your father,” Peter said.

Everyone looked at Peter, but he was staring at Allison.

“My father? Why?”

Instead of answering her, Peter stood. He walked over to the window and stood looking out. He appeared to be ignoring them all, but Derek knew that Peter was aware of everything they said and did.

“Your father’s the only other Argent in Beacon Hills,” Derek said when it became clear that Peter wasn’t going to respond. “He may know something, or be involved somehow.”

It had only been a shot in the dark, but the way Peter stiffened at the words told Derek he was on the right track, however inadvertently he’d arrived there. Derek lifted Stiles into his arms and left Allison on the phone with her father to walk over to Peter. Derek stared out the window for a moment, then looked at Peter.

When Peter finally deigned to acknowledge him, and probably only because he had to since Derek was his Alpha, Derek said, “Would you like to tell me what’s going on?”

“No,” Peter said, and then turned back to the window.

Derek let it go, but only because he figured he’d find out soon enough. And also because Stiles stretched in his arms just then. Derek set Stiles down when he squirmed, and Stiles scampered over to sniff at the still sleeping pile of Scott and Isaac, and then stuck his nose in the water bowl. Apparently dissatisfied, Stiles sat on his butt and whined at Derek.

“He’s hungry,” Lydia said. “We should’ve had your dad bring some dog food,” she told Allison.

Derek raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think they’d thank you if they found out you’d given them dog food.”

“They’re dogs,” Lydia said archly.

Stiles followed Derek to the kitchen area and sat at his feet (nearly on top of them) while Derek got leftover cheeseburgers and hotdogs out of the fridge, cut them into bite-sized pieces, warmed them in the microwave, and divided them onto three plates. He almost got himself stepped on more than once, only Derek’s enhanced speed and agility keeping him from getting squished.

Derek sat on the floor and hand fed Stiles a piece at a time so he didn’t scarf it down and choke on it. The scent of the food woke the other two and soon Allison and Lydia were feeding Scott and Isaac, as well. Stiles climbed onto Derek’s lap and Derek held the plate out of his reach. When it was empty, Derek let Stiles lick the plate, and then his fingers when Stiles was insistent about it.

When Derek tried to gently push Stiles off his lap so he could get up, Stiles snapped at him, catching his fingers, and then immediately licked them in apology. Derek gently clamped his fingers around Stiles’ muzzle and tipped him onto his back. Stiles submitted after a few seconds of pawing playfully at Derek’s hand, as if they were playing a game. Derek released Stiles’ muzzle and rubbed his belly as a reward for recognizing Derek’s position as the Alpha.

Stiles barked unhappily when Derek stood and left him. While Derek did the dishes, Stiles pounced on Scott, and then Isaac pounced on Stiles, and the three of them tumbled across the floor in a ball of paws and ears. Through it all, Peter remained a silent, impassive statue at the window. Until Derek (and presumably Peter, given the way his shoulders went stiff), sensed Chris Argent’s approach.

~*~*~*~

As soon as Derek dried his hands and stepped out from behind the counter, he was deemed fair game. Stiles attacked his boots.

“Not the shoelaces,” Derek said, using the toe of one boot to nudge Stiles away. Stiles the puppy, however, was as tenacious as Stiles the human. He darted in, grabbed the end of Derek’s shoelace in his mouth, and darted back out, only to be brought up short when the lace was jerked out of his mouth.

Derek crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Stiles. He briefly wondered what it meant that he was having a battle of wills with a puppy. “Double knotted,” Derek said, which only made Stiles look at Derek’s laces with more interest.

When Derek looked up, Lydia was watching them.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Lydia said in a tone that clearly said there was totally something.

Derek ignored her in favor of studying Chris, and wondering how he might be the key to reversing the spell, as Peter seemed to think.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Chris said, pulling Allison into a hug and dropping a kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks for coming, Dad,” Allison said, sliding the door shut behind him when Chris stepped further into the loft.

Chris’ gaze took in each of them standing there, eyes lingering only a moment on the back Peter still presented to the rest of the room.

“What’s going on?” Chris asked.

Peter didn’t move, even though Derek knew he was fully aware of Chris’ presence.

“We need your help,” Derek said, lowering his arms.

“And why would I . . . ?”

“Dad,” Allison said.

Chris sighed. “Sorry,” he said, and Derek could tell how difficult it was for him to speak that word. “Old habits. What can I do for you?”

Derek took a step towards Chris and heard the end of his shoelace click against the floor. He glanced down and, sure enough, Stiles had taken advantage of Derek’s distracting to untie the lace.

“Damn it, Stiles,” Derek growled.

Stiles barked, then sat watching Derek with his tongue hanging out, clearly laughing at him. Derek swooped down and snatched up Stiles, who gave a surprised yip. Derek gave Stiles a Very Stern Look, but Stiles just licked his face.

“You got a puppy,” Chris said. “And you named him Stiles,” he added dryly.

“I didn’t name him,” Derek said, just as Scott and Isaac took up again and went spilling across the floor.

“Three of them,” Chris said.

“Scott, stop it,” Allison said, pulling Scott off Isaac. She looked at her father as she rubbed Scott’s ears. “This is our problem.”

Chris looked from the brown Labrador in Allison’s arms, to the Husky panting on the floor at her feet, to . . . . “He’s a German Shepherd,” Chris said.

“Yep,” Derek said, because of _course_ Stiles was.

“Isaac, I presume,” Chris said of the Husky after doing the math.

Isaac barked in reply.

“What happened?”

“Oh, you know,” Lydia said. “The usual. A witch, a spell, and voila! Puppies.”

“So, how can I help?” Chris asked.

Derek shrugged. That was yet to be seen. “A fresh eye, if nothing else.”

“What do you have?” Chris asked, and Allison and Lydia proceeded to tell him everything, from running into the witch, the research they’d done, the spells they’d found, and the riddle.

Derek parked himself on the couch while they talked. He put his feet up on the scarred coffee table and glowered at the untied boot. Stiles, oblivious, sprawled across Derek’s legs and watched the others as if they were at the movies.

“So, it looks like either you or I have to kiss Derek,” Allison finished.

“What?” Chris said. He glared at Derek. “You stay away from my daughter.”

Peter snorted, but kept his back to the room.

Derek’s smile was all teeth. “I don’t have any intention of kissing your daughter. Besides, she belongs to Scott,” Derek added because the reminder always made Chris look like he’d just tasted something bad.

“Dad,” Allison said. “I’d kiss Derek if I had to, if it helped Scott, but Derek, and Lydia,” she added when Lydia made a sound, “don’t think we’re the ones the riddle’s talking about.”

“Then who is it talking about?” Chris said.

“I couldn’t imagine,” Peter said, speaking for the first time. He turned, arms held down at his side with effort, and faced the room. “Lovers, enemies, a fire . . . .”

Chris’ face went pale beneath the tan. “A witch, you said?” he asked.

“From their description of her, the very same one,” Peter said.

“The same one as what?” Lydia asked, but they both ignored her.

Chris pulled a chair away from the table and sat down hard. “But why?” he said, wiping a hand over his face.

“Revenge?” Peter said. “After all this time, it’s probably even sweeter.”

“But she already had her revenge,” Chris said wearily.

“What do you mean?” Peter said sharply.

“Who do you think told my father about us?” Chris said.

Allison gasped. Derek, though just as surprised by the information, glared at her, but it was Lydia’s grip on Alison’s wrist that kept her from saying anything more and interrupting.

Peter narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “Your father found out about us?”

“Yes,” Chris said. He gave a humorless laugh. “We always knew he would.”

“You never said,” Peter said, accusation in his voice.

“No,” Chris said. “He . . . .” Chris pushed a hand through his hair. “He forced me to break off all contact with you.”

Peter snorted. “Whatever happened to never letting our families come between us?”

“We were naive kids to think we could go against our families,” Chris spat.

Peter was breathing hard, and it looked like he wanted to say something. Instead of speaking, he deflated. “Yes, I guess we were.”

“My father, Gerard, said he’d kill you if I spoke to you again,” Chris said. “You and your entire family,” he ended on a horrified note.

“He sent me away,” Chris went on, lost in the memory, “and Kate became his favorite.” He huffed a laugh that held no humor. “The fire. It was ruled an accident. I had no idea, until . . . . Kate.” The name encompassed everything that had happened since Kate returned to Beacon Hills and it was revealed that she, and ultimately her father, because she never did anything without his blessing, had been behind the fire that killed nearly all of the Hale family.

“He promised me that he’d leave you alone,” Chris said, as if he couldn’t believe he’d been deceived.

“And you believed him?” Peter said.

“He promised,” Chris said again, but there was no conviction behind it. He’d learned the hard way just what kind of man his father was, and in how little regard he’d held Chris in the end.

Chris shook himself, as if he could shake off the memories. “Did you try to kill her?” he asked. “Killing the witch that cast the spell should end it.”

“She disappeared,” Allison said after the moment it took her to find her tongue after everything that had just been revealed. “Like, poof! There and gone in a literal cloud of smoke.”

“So all you have is the riddle,” Chris said, drawing the notepad close and re-reading it. “What are the chances she’s lying?”

“High,” Derek said.

Stiles barked to second that.

“So,” Chris said. “A kiss.”

“Dad,” Allison said, then stopped. She looked torn between telling him he didn’t have to do this and the puppy in her arms, gazing at her with adoring eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said instead. “This is my fault.”

“Stop,” Chris said gently, curling his fingers around Allison’s arm. “This isn’t your fault. And even if it was, we set events into motion a long time ago.”

“How?” Derek said.

Chris jolted out of his thoughts and looked at Derek as if he’d forgotten he was there. “How else, we pissed off a witch,” he said with a wry twist of his lips. “She got her revenge,” Chris went on, “but apparently she couldn’t resist getting another shot in.”

Chris looked back down at the riddle, eyes moving over the words, and then he just stared at the page for a moment. Eventually he cleared his throat. “So, how do we do this?”

“You never used to have a problem figuring that out,” Peter said, his tone a combination of sarcasm and teasing that, frankly, freaked Derek the hell out.

Plus, it was a thing Derek never needed to know.

“Gross,” Allison muttered, clearly sharing Derek’s opinion.

“Allison,” Chris said softly. “I’d appreciate it if you weren’t here for this.”

“Like I want to watch?” Allison said, then, “Dad, are you sure?”

“Unless you want Scott to remain a puppy forever, I don’t see that we have any choice,” Chris said calmly.

“What if it doesn’t work? What if she lied?”

“We won’t know until we try,” Chris said. He stood and held Allison by the arms, knocking Scott lightly on the nose when he growled at him.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. Now go.”

“I’ll go with you,” Lydia said emphatically, taking Allison’s arm.

“Leave Scott,” Derek said, and they both stopped short. “We don’t know the proximity necessary for the . . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say kiss. “Reversal to work,” he finished pointing out.

Allison reluctantly set Scott down, and he immediately started jumping on her legs in a bid to be picked up again. Isaac tried to distract him and they plunged across the floor once more.

“Aren’t you leaving?” Lydia asked.

“No,” Derek said, his tone brooking no argument.

Chris waited for Allison and Lydia to leave before speaking. “I don’t really feel comfortable having you here for this.”

“I don’t really feel comfortable _being_ here for this,” Derek said, “but since we don’t know what’s going to happen, if anything, I’m staying. Consider me your back up,” Derek said, his smile showing fang.

Chris sighed. “Point.” He looked at Peter, who hadn’t moved from his position in front of the window. “I suppose I have to come to you,” he said dryly.

Peter crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t have to,” he said. “We could leave Scott, Isaac and Stiles as puppies. I don’t actually care much either way. Your daughter, on the other hand . . . .”

“Still a drama queen, I see. Does everything have to be an argument with you?” Chris said with an almost fond exasperation as he moved across the loft.

Derek was doing his very best not to look at Peter or Chris, so when Peter’s heartbeat sped up it was loud in Derek’s ears. He wished he could turn down his hearing, but he needed all his senses working in case something happened. Seriously, how _had_ this become his life?

Derek wanted to ask Stiles, but when he focused on him, all of Stiles’ attention was on Peter and Chris. “Hey,” Derek said, nudging Stiles. “You don’t want to watch that.”

Stiles completely ignored Derek, even when Derek put his fingers in front of Stiles’ face. “I didn’t know you were that much of a voyeur,” Derek said, the words trailing off when he saw Scott and Isaac also watching intently.

Maybe they could sense the imminent end to their being trapped in puppy form. Still, they didn’t need to see this any more than Derek did. Derek found the tennis ball and rolled it across the floor to Scott and Isaac, who both immediately pounced on it.

Derek glanced over to see that Chris had Peter pressed up against the wall. They were engaged in a deep kiss that Derek thought had little to do with reversing a spell if Peter’s grip on Chris’ ass, and the sounds he was making, were any indication. Derek wished he could stab a fork into his ears and eyes.

Stiles’ gaze was still glued to the kiss. “If you remember this,” Derek said, “you’re going to want to kill yourself.”

Suddenly Derek’s ears popped as pressure built in the room. There was a groan from Scott, and embarrassed silence from Isaac as he rolled off Scott.

“True love’s kiss?” Stiles said disgustedly. “Are you fucking _kidding_ me?”

~*~*~*~

Derek gave Stiles a shove, and Stiles landed on the floor with a thump. Peter and Chris jerked apart as if they’d both just been goosed. Chris wiped the back of his hand across his lips as he looked around the room, noting that Scott, Isaac and Stiles were back in human form.

“Well,” Chris said. “If that’s all.” He crossed the loft on unsteady legs and pointedly ignored Derek.

“Did it work?” Allison said when Chris pulled open the door.

“It worked,” Chris said.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Chris said, the words not doing much to reassure Allison. “I’m going home. Give me some time, will you?”

“Okay,” Allison said, watching her father walk away with concern. She darted into the loft when Scott groaned again.

“I want to find that witch and kill her,” Scott said.

“Killing should be the last resort,” Derek couldn’t help saying, mimicking Scott and earning himself a glare until Scott was distracted by Allison.

“Isaac,” Derek said. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess,” Isaac said. “I kinda wanna kill her, too.”

“I’m fine, too,” Stiles said as he struggled to get to his feet in the small space between the couch and the coffee table. “If anyone cares.”

Derek glanced up as Peter took the steps to Derek’s bedroom in two leaps. He heard Peter climb out the window and up onto the roof, and soon the sound of his heartbeat was lost. Derek stood and stepped over Stiles, ignoring his squawks of protest. He walked over to Isaac and touched him, satisfying himself that he really was alright, and that there were no residual effects from the transformation from human to puppy and back again. Scott didn’t even argue too much when Derek did the same to him.

When Scott gave the spot by the window a pained look and suggested that they take off, Derek said, “Stay away from the woods. I’ll handle the witch later.”

Isaac shuddered. “As much as I’d like to tear her apart with my teeth, I don’t really want to go anywhere near her right now.”

After the others left, Derek turned to Stiles, who was staring at the window with a slightly horrified expression on his face.

“What about you?” Derek said.

“What about me?” Stiles said, shifting shiftily.

“How are you feeling?” Derek said patiently.

“Aside from the fact that I want to spork my eyes out?” Stiles said.

Derek’s lips twitched. “Yeah, aside from that.”

“Man, once you see some things, you just can’t unsee them.”

“I tried to stop you,” Derek said. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Stiles had evaded the actual question. “So, you remember everything?” he said.

Stiles went red and fished around for something to say, finally spitting out, “Look, I don’t think you can hold anything I did when I was a puppy against me, okay?”

“Why not?” Derek said, and watched Stiles sputter.

“What do you mean, why not? Because I was a _puppy_. I wasn’t in my right mind, and also, who doesn’t love puppies, right?”

“You peed on my floor,” Derek said dryly, remembering the mad scramble they’d done (well, that he and Allison had done, Peter had just watched) when Allison had first showed up with three puppies in tow.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. “We’re going there? We’re really going there? Given how many times you’ve bled on my car seats, I . . . .”

“You licked my face, and sat on my lap,” Derek said.

Stiles’ word vomit dried up and he looked nervous again. “So, um, sorry about that?” he said.

“Scott stared adoringly at Allison,” Derek said.

“Well, of course he did,” Stiles said. “Scott’s in love with . . . um.”

“You untied my shoe.”

Stiles’ gaze dropped to Derek’s boot. “Okay? Do you want me to apologize again?”

“No,” Derek said, unable to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth even as he spoke them. “I want you to tie it.”

“You want me to tie your shoe,” Stiles repeated.

Derek crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Stiles. Stiles’ scent flared.

“Yeah, okay, I can do that,” Stiles said. He went to his knees and reached for Derek’s shoelace. “Ugh, they’re wet.”

Derek looked down at Stiles’ bent head. He dropped his arms and slid one hand around the back of Stiles’ head. Stiles’ breath caught and his fingers jerked the bow he’d just tied out and he had to start over again.

Derek drew Stiles’ head closer until Stiles’ forehead was pressed to his thigh. Stiles’ heartbeat stuttered and Derek tried not to imagine Stiles tipping his head back and looking up at Derek as those nimble fingers worked on his zipper instead of his shoelace.

“Okay, I, um . . . .” Stiles patted Derek’s boot to indicate that he was done.

Derek exerted pressure on the back of Stiles’ head. Stiles did tilt his head back then and Derek growled. The expressions on Stiles’ face cycled through several emotions, but he remained silent and allowed Derek to draw him to his feet.

“Do you remember what just happened in here?” Derek said as he moved Stiles backwards across the loft.

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles said, a pale imitation of his usual bravado. “I was the one padding around on four tiny paws.”

“Not so tiny,” Derek said, and from the blush rising on his cheeks, Stiles was also remembering the time he’d inadvertently crushed Derek’s package with said paws as he made himself comfortable on Derek’s lap. “But that’s not what I was talking about. I meant with Peter and Chris.”

“How could I forget?” Stiles said. “The image is burned into my retinas.”

“It still smells like them in here,” Derek said as he maneuvered Stiles’ back against the wall beside the window, replacing the image of Peter pressed there by Chris with this one.

“You mean . . . ?” At Derek’s nod, Stiles said, “Oh, gross.”

“Succinct, but accurate,” Derek said. “This is my home. I’d like to get rid of their scent. Replace it with something more . . . pleasant.”

“And that would be . . . ?”

Stiles squeaked when Derek buried his nose in Stiles’ neck. “Me?” Stiles said in surprise.

“Mmm,” Derek agreed against Stiles’ skin, eliciting a shiver and a wave of arousal. “Are you willing?”

“Willing?” Stiles said blankly.

Derek licked Stiles’ neck.

Stiles groaned. “Fuck.”

“That could be arranged,” Derek said. “If you want.”

“If I . . . ? What do you want?” Stiles said breathlessly.

“Everything,” Derek said. Then, because he was afraid that sort of intensity might scare Stiles off, added, “Anything.”

“You want . . . ? Really?”

“Really,” Derek said, pressing his hips into Stiles’.

“Okay, that’s, um, me too. Obviously. Anything. Everything.”

“I know,” Derek said. “I can smell it on you.”

“You can . . . okay, that’s gross. And embarrassing.”

“I like it,” Derek said, sliding his hands up Stiles’ sides to elicit more of that scent.

“Of course you do,” Stiles said with fond amusement. He squeaked again when Derek found his nipple.

“You can touch me, too,” Derek said.

“I can? I can,” Stiles said, and carefully set his hands on Derek’s hips.

Derek could feel the heat of him through his jeans. It was distracting, but he could also sense Stiles’ tentativeness.

“We don’t have to,” Derek forced himself to say. “If you’re not sure.”

Stiles froze. “I thought you said you could, uh, smell me.”

“I can,” Derek said, allowing himself another sniff. “But you never acted on it. Not until you were a puppy, anyway,” Derek couldn’t help adding.

Stiles slumped against Derek, dropping his forehead to Derek’s chest. “Again? Really?”

Derek curled his fingers around the back of Stiles’ neck and pressed his nose to the side of Stiles’ head where his hair had grown out. “You were less inhibited,” Derek said.

“Hence the licking?” Stiles said, resigned to having this conversation.

“Among other things,” Derek said, remembering the way Stiles had wanted Derek to pick him up and how he’d made himself comfortable on Derek’s lap.

“What if I got used to it?” Stiles said.

“Sitting on my lap?” Derek said, since that’s what was on his mind at the moment.

Stiles blushed. “Among other things,” he said.

“You can lick me anytime,” Derek said, just to watch Stiles’ blush deepen.

“Good to know,” Stiles said. “What if I want you to feed me?”

“Oh, I’ll feed you,” Derek said.

“Oh my god, you pig!” Stiles said, slapping Derek’s arm. “I meant, like, grapes. And chocolate covered strawberries!”

“So did I,” Derek said innocently.

“You did not! You . . . .”

Derek growled. “Stiles.”

Stiles actually whimpered.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I . . . .”

“God, tell me you’re _ready_ ,” Derek said, having an attack of conscience when he remembered that, no matter what he’d been through the past year, Stiles was still only seventeen. Still so young. Untouched by the darkness that resided inside Derek.

“Derek,” Stiles said, pulling Derek out of his thoughts. “I’m not afraid.”

Derek shook his head. “You don’t know . . . .“

“Not of this,” Stiles went on, indicating their closeness. “And not of you.”

Derek broke off and just stared at Stiles, who met his gaze unflinchingly. Derek opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get the words out, Stiles took Derek’s face in both his hands and crushed their lips together.

Derek prided himself on his control, but it flew out the window with Stiles’ kiss. Derek pressed Stiles into the wall with his body and deepened the kiss, reveling in the sounds Stiles made as their bodies moved together.

Derek jerked back, panting. “We should stop.”

“No!” Stiles said. “No. We should do the opposite of stop. I-I want to touch you. And I want you to touch me. You’ve thought about it, right?”

Derek nodded.

“So have I. And we don’t have to do . . . everything.” Stiles blushed. “Not right away. But I definitely want to. Eventually. And I want to start today. Right now.”

“Okay,” Derek said, and crashed their mouths back together. He refused to think about just how easily he’d let Stiles convince him.

Derek broke the kiss, which elicited a sound of protest from Stiles as he tried to follow Derek’s lips with his own. That sound turned to a squawk of surprise when Derek threw Stiles over his shoulder and carried him up the stairs three at a time.

“Seriously?” Stiles said, then, “Oh my god, be careful of my head! Do you have any idea what a loss it would be if . . . . Oomph!”

~*~*~*~

Stiles glared at Derek as he bounced on the mattress. Then he stretched his arms and legs out. “Wow, this is actually really comfortable. And here I’d been worried that you slept on a bed of nails, or something.”

“That’s in the other room,” Derek said dryly, indicating the closet door.

Stiles’ gaze moved to the door, then snapped back to Derek. “Funny.”

Derek stripped his t-shirt off and Stiles’ eyes went a little glazed.

“You were worried about me?” Derek said, knowing that it was unfair to question Stiles when his brain had gotten side-tracked.

“Of course I . . . wait, what? No, of course I . . . Okay, fine, yes. Aren’t you going to take anything else off?”

Derek smirked. “If only I’d known you were this easy.”

“You knew,” Stiles said. He lowered his eyes. “That’s why you ignored . . . you know.”

“Your teenaged hormones stinking up the place?” Derek said.

Stiles gave Derek a sly look. “You like the way I smell.”

“I’m going to be sorry I told you that, aren’t I?” Derek said as he unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans.

“If by that you mean I’m going to remind you of it every opportunity I get, then yes.”

Derek sat on the edge of the mattress to remove his boots. “This would go a lot faster if someone hadn’t drooled all over my shoelace,” he said.

“Puppy,” Stiles reminded Derek. “Adorable.”

Derek snorted. He toed off his boots and removed his socks, then turned to look at Stiles. Who was lying on his bed, looking at Derek like . . . .

“What?” Stiles said.

Derek reached out and touched Stiles, laying his hand on Stiles’ thigh because he could. He curled his fingers around the inside of Stiles’ leg and dragged his hand up. Stiles made a choked off sound and spread his legs, giving Derek better access.

Derek slid his hand up over Stiles’ groin, eliciting a pained whimper, and then slipped his fingers beneath the hem of his t-shirt and brushed them over Stiles’ belly. “Take off your shirt,” Derek said.

Stiles got trapped in his t-shirt in his hurry to comply, which was just so Stiles that it made Derek smile. “I’m not as ripped as you,” Stiles said through the material wrapped around his face.

“I like what you are,” Derek said.

Stiles pulled the t-shirt off his head and dropped his arms to his side and just stared at Derek.

“What?” Derek said.

“You’re a romantic,” Stiles said.

“Shut up,” Derek said.

“No, I like it,” Stiles said.

Derek growled. Stiles was unaffected. He dropped the t-shirt over the side of the bed, then reached for Derek’s arm and tugged on it. “Come here.”

Derek went. He’d like to say that he put up at least a token resistence, but the truth was, he’d thought about this, _wanted_ it, for so long that he wasn’t entirely certain he wasn’t dreaming this whole thing up. Derek touched a spot on Stiles’ side that made him giggle and jerk, smacking their foreheads together, which is how Derek knew this wasn’t a dream.

“Ow,” Stiles groaned, even as he stroked his hand over Derek’s forehead and into his hair. “Sorry, sorry,” Stiles whispered against Derek’s lips. He bit Derek’s bottom lip, which he had to know would get a response, and then licked his way between them and into Derek’s mouth.

Derek wanted to take control of the kiss, wanted to hold Stiles down and taste him all over, wanted to come inside him, on him, rub his scent into Stiles’ skin so everyone would know that Stiles belonged to him. But he couldn’t do that, not this time. Now he needed to let Stiles take the lead, needed to know that Stiles wanted everything they did.

Of course, like everything Derek attempted, he should’ve expected this to back fire on him. Good intentions, the road to hell, and all that.

Stiles broke the kiss and looked at Derek worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Derek said, trying to sound irritated instead of kiss-stupid.

“How come you’re not kissing me?”

“I am kissing you,” Derek said, confused.

“Okay,” Stiles said with a frown. “Alright.”

Stiles reached for Derek again, but this time Derek pulled back. “You didn’t like it?” he asked, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“No! I did!” Stiles said. “I just . . . .” He blushed, which Derek did not find attractive. At all.

Derek breathed in Stiles’ scent – a heady combination of embarrassment and arousal. “You jsust what?”

“It’s just not what I expected, is all,” Stiles said, attempting to make it sound like no big deal.

But it clearly was a big deal. “What did you expect?”

Stiles blushed even harder. Derek hadn’t thought that was possible.

“I expected you to kiss like you do everything else. Intense. Maybe a little angry. You know, grrr, kiss!” Stiles said, complete with finger claws.

Derek wanted to be insulted, but Stiles looked so earnest that Derek actually had to grit his teeth together to keep from smiling. He raised his eyebrows. “Grrr, kiss?”

Stiles nodded, as if glad Derek got it, which he totally didn’t. “And there might have been some wall throwing.”

“You want me to throw you into a wall?” Derek said, partly horrified, and partly turned on.

“Well, not now, obviously,” Stiles said, wiggling beneath Derek. “I like where we are now. And not, like, throw-throw, but be kind of forceful? Maybe? I have to admit, I’ve had some seriously spectacular fantasies that started out that way,” he admitted. The blush, which had receded somewhat, was back..

Derek wanted to follow up on that line of thought, but that was for another time. He needed to address Stiles’ original point or they’d be here forever just talking. “I wanted you to be in control. Of the kiss,” he explained. “I didn’t want to do anything that would scare you, or make you uncomfortable.”

Stiles snorted. “Sorry,” he said immediately, eyes wide. “That wasn’t because of what you said. I mean it was, but not . . . It was a really sweet thing to say, but do you even know me? When have I ever let you get away with anything?”

“This is different,” Derek said stubbornly.

“Maybe,” Stiles agreed. “But I trust you to not hurt me, or do anything I don’t want you to do, and I promise I will tell you if we do something that makes me uncomfortable. But you have to do the same.”

Stiles must’ve seen the surprise in Derek’s eyes. “Hey, this is a two way street, buddy, it works both ways. Right?” he added, almost uncertain.

“Right,” Derek agreed.

“Good,” Stiles said. “So, maybe it would help if you tell me some of those things you want to do. Just so we can make sure we’re on the same page. And besides, I already told you about the wall thing.”

“I didn’t realize there’d be this much talking during sex,” Derek said lightly.

It was Stiles’ turn to raise his eyebrows disbelievingly.

“But you’re right, I should’ve,” Derek said, which made Stiles laugh and punch him.

“Asshole.”

“I want to taste you,” Derek said.

It took Stiles a moment to get back on the track of their conversation, but then his eyes went wide. “Where?” he asked breathlessly.

“Everywhere,” Derek said, nostrils flaring as Stiles’ scent sharpened.

“Even . . . ?”

“There’s no spot on your body I’m not going to have my tongue,” Derek said.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles said. “I’d be up for that.”

Derek rocked his hips against Stiles and smirked. “I know.”

“Jerk,” Stiles said, but he was too busy pushing his hips up against Derek’s for there to be any heat in it. “What else?”

“You tell me something,” Derek said.

“Okay. Um, that thing you did before when you touched my nipple? I liked that.”

“I liked the sound you made when I did that,” Derek said. “I want to smell you.”

“Of course you do,” Stiles said fondly. “I want to touch you. And sometimes I just want to look at you. I want to suck you. Though I might be really bad at it.”

“I want to come on you,” Derek said. “I want to watch you stretch around my fingers. I want to know what you look like when you come.

Stiles groaned. “Oh my god, Derek, I need to get these jeans off! Right now! Off!”

Derek almost got a knee in the eye, but they eventually managed to get Stiles’ sneakers and jeans off, and then Derek’s own, without one of them coming before they were even out of their clothes.

“What do you want to do first?” Derek said as he crawled back up Stiles’ body.

“Anything,” Stiles said. “Just touch me, please.”

Stiles slid his hands over Derek’s shoulders and down his back as if he was starved for the feel of him. Derek buried his nose in Stiles’ neck and breathed him in. Stiles arched his neck to give Derek better access, and made a needy little sound deep in his throat that pulled at the very core of Derek.

Derek moved down Stiles’ body, pausing to lick a nipple, which turned Stiles’ whine of protest into a soft moan. He licked into Stiles’ belly button, which earned him a breathless giggle, and then buried his nose in the crease between Stiles’ hip and groin.

Stiles made a choked off sound, then said, “You’re going to do more than sniff down there, aren’t you?”

Derek raised his eyes so he could see Stiles’ face, flushed and eager. “Maybe,” he said.

Stiles groaned and dropped his head back onto the pillow.

Derek moved back up Stiles’ body. “You’re very demanding.”

“Have you met me?”

“I have,” Derek said, feeling emotions he didn’t want to think too closely on. “I’m going to kiss you now. Grrr,” he added, and when he pressed his lips to Stiles’, Stiles was laughing.

Derek kissed Stiles until the laughter turned to sighs, moans turned to whimpers. Their bodies moved together, and Derek didn’t stop the thought that they fit perfectly together. Almost too perfectly. Derek reached between them and took them both into his hand. Stiles’ groan as the touch went right through him.

“Oh god,” Stiles said between kisses. “Derek.” Stiles hips jerked and his cock moved against Derek’s and through Derek’s fist.

Derek felt his orgasm build in his lower back, felt it all the way down to his toes, but he refused to be the one that came first. He was the Alpha, after all, and he should have more control than Stiles, who was being touched by someone else for the very first time. But the sounds Stiles was making, and the scent he gave off as he neared his own climax, drove Derek crazy.

Derek growled low in his throat and closed blunt teeth on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles groaned Derek’s name and came, and the scent of Stiles release pulled Derek’s trigger.

Stiles gave a breathless laugh when they’d both emptied themselves. “That was awesome,” he said. “We’re definitely doing that again.”

Derek lifted up enough to pull his hand out from between them. Their come coated his fingers. Derek watched Stiles’ eyes go wide when he raised his hand to his mouth and tasted them. He pressed a finger to Stiles’ lips and Stiles darted out his tongue for a taste.

Derek crushed their lips together and licked the taste of them out of Stiles’ mouth. Stiles pulled on Derek’s hair, which made Derek deepen the kiss. They were both breathing hard when they broke apart.

They both regarded the come on Stiles’ belly. “We should probably clean up . . . Or that,” Stiles said when Derek spread the come over Stiles’ skin.

Derek listened carefully for Stiles’ reaction, but there was no sour scent of fear or disgust.

“That’s gonna dry and be really uncomfortable,” was all Stiles said.

Derek ducked his head and started licking at the come he’d just rubbed into Stiles’ skin.

“Or not,” Stiles said as he watched Derek lick him clean. “I feel like I should be hard again,” Stiles said a little breathlessly when Derek finished. “My recovery time is disappointing.”

Derek rolled to his side next to Stiles and pulled Stiles into him. “We have time,” he said. “Rest now.”

Stiles slid his hand over Derek’s arm, then settled his head on the pillow next to Derek’s. “So, how many boxes did we just tick off?”

Derek opened eyes he’d just closed and glared at Stiles. “You’re talking.”

“You like it when I talk. Especially when I say things like, ‘Oh, Derek, you big manly stud!’

“Don’t ever say that again,” Derek said dryly.

“You like it,” Stiles said. “Don’t front.”

Derek did like it, but he was never, ever going to tell Stiles that.

“Uh,” Stiles said. “I just had a thought.”

“Shocking,” Derek said. “What is it?”

“Peter’s not going to come swinging through your window anytime soon, is he? I really don’t want him seeing my bare ass. Or smelling what we just did.”

Derek growled at the thought of Peter seeing Stiles’ bare ass, then said, “I can’t believe you brought up Peter while we’re lying naked here in bed.”

“It’s _because_ we’re lying naked here in bed!” Stiles said. “What? It’s a valid concern! He’s like an STD! Unwanted and unexpected and a real pain in the . . . umph!”

Derek kissed Stiles to shut him up. Kissed him hard. When he pulled back, Stiles looked dazed as he stuck his tongue out to lick at red, swollen lips. It was a look Derek liked on him.

“I think you broke my brain,” Stiles said.

Derek smirked.

“But seriously . . . .”

“Oh god, no,” Derek groaned. “Will you shut up if I blow you?”

There was stunned silence at the question, but Stiles recovered quickly. “If you lock the windows.”

Derek bounced off the bed and went over to lock the windows. He pulled the curtains just in case. When he turned back to the bed, Stiles was smiling at him.

“What?” Derek said gruffly.

Stiles’ smile just widened. He held out his hand. “Come here.”

Derek went.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> For those who didn't get the meaning behind Chris commenting that Stiles was a German Shepherd and Derek being all 'of course he is', it's because the German Shepherd is (or was once) commonly known as a 'police dog', and so I thought it would be kind of neat if that's what kind of dog Stiles had been turned into. *g*


End file.
